When he reached the table, he held out his hand. “Jake Ottweiler, Tannie’s father. You must be her friend.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kinsey. How are you?”

“Welcome to the Blue Moon, which most of us refer to as ‘The Moon.’ I saw you when you came in.”

“So did everyone else. You must not get a lot of walk-in trade.”

“More than you’d think. Folks from Santa Teresa drive up on a regular basis.” His eyes were a piercing blue against the sunburned darkness of his face. Tannie had told me he’d farmed the land for years, but his part-ownership in the Blue Moon had apparently introduced an element of gentility. He’d traded in his work boots and overalls for slacks and a nicely cut navy sport coat over a soft white shirt.

When the waitress reappeared and set down my glass of white wine, he murmured, “I’ll take care of that” with scarcely a glance at her. It was clear they’d dealt with each other for so long the need for conversation was reduced to a minimum.

I said, “Will you join me?”

“Briefly. At least until Tannie gets here. I’m sure you girls have lots to talk about.” He pulled out a chair and ordered a drink with the lift of one hand. When the waitress had moved off again, he leaned back in his chair and studied me. “You don’t look like my idea of a private eye.”

“These days, we come in all shapes and sizes.”

“How’s it going?”

“An investigation like this requires the patience of a saint.”

“Seems like a fool’s errand, if you want to know the truth.”

“No doubt,” I said. “Can I ask you a few questions as long as I have you here?”

“Be my guest. I don’t know that I can help, but I’ll tell you what I can.”

“How well did you know Violet?”

“Well enough, I guess. I used to see her in here two and three times a week. She was a troubled soul, but not a bad person by any means.”

“I heard she took you to small-claims court because of an incident in which your dog killed hers.”

“That was bad. I felt sorry for her, but I had my dog under control. Hers was running loose, so she was as much at fault as I was. In the end, I had to put my dog down, but it had nothing to do with her. Anyway, we settled it. I could have argued the point, but to what end? Her toy poodle was dead and she was brokenhearted until she got Baby.”

“Were you at the park for the fireworks the night she disappeared?”

“I was. Tannie was supposed to go with her brother, but he took off with his friends so the two of us went.”

“Did you see Foley?”

“No, but I know he and Livia Cramer got into it. She didn’t approve of the Sullivans. She thought they were heathens, which was none of her concern, but the woman never could leave well enough alone. She got on him about Daisy. The little girl had never been baptized and Livia thought it was disgraceful. Foley was drunk by then and told her exactly what she could go and do with herself. Livia made sure everyone in town heard what he’d said. In her mind, it was one more example of what a lowlife he was.”

“You didn’t see Violet?”

He shook his head. “Last time I saw Violet was the day before. She was driving around town in that new car of hers and she stopped to have a chat.”

“You remember the subject?”

“Mostly she was showing off. She’d come back from taking Daisy and Liza Mellincamp to lunch and a movie in Santa Maria. She had errands to run, so she’d dropped the girls at the house while she was out and about.”

“You’ve got a good memory.”

He smiled. “I’d like to take credit, but the subject comes up every other year-some journalist in town. I’ve told the story so often, I could do it in my sleep.”

“I’ll bet. When you talked to Violet, she seemed okay to you?”

“As much as she ever did. She had her ups and downs, what I believe they call bipolar these days.”

“Really. That’s new. No one’s mentioned mood swings.”

“That was my observation. I’m not up on these things so it’s only a guess on my part. She did a lot of crying in her beer, so to speak.”

“Daisy remembers her parents getting into a big fight the night before. This would have been Thursday night. She says Foley tore down a panel of her mother’s curtains. Violet blew her stack, tore down the rest of them and threw ‘em in the trash. Did you hear about?”

He shook his head slightly. “Sounds like something she’d do. Why bring that up?”

“I’ve heard that’s why Foley ended up buying her the car, to make amends.”

“Must not have done much good if she left anyway,” he said. “Fellow you want to talk to is my partner, BW, who tended bar back then. Unfortunately, he’s not in tonight or I’d introduce you.”

“Daisy suggested his name, too. Could you let him know I’m trying to get in touch?”

“How about I tell you where he’ll be at seven in the morning and you can talk to him yourself? Maxi’s Coffee Shop. It’s right on the road between Silas and Serena Station. He’s there every morning for an hour or so.”

I could feel my eyes cross at the notion of an early morning drive. I’d have to leave S.T. at dawn. “I’d hate to pop in unannounced. He might not like being quizzed while he’s enjoying his morning coffee and eating his eggs.”

“BW won’t care. He’s an easygoing guy and he loves to hold court.”

“How would I recognize him?”

“Easy. He weighs three hundred pounds and his head is shaved.”

He glanced at the entrance behind me, and I turned to see Daisy and Tannie coming in the door. They spotted us and crossed to the table with Tannie leading the way. She was sunburned from a day spent outside battling the brush, but she’d managed in the interim to shower and change clothes. Her jeans were freshly pressed and her white blouse was crisp, her hair still damp and tucked under a baseball cap. Daisy wore a red cotton cardigan over a red-and-white-print dress. She’d pulled her blond hair back, clamping it in place with a red plastic clip.

Jake rose as they approached. Tannie gave her dad a buss on the cheek. “Hey, Pop. I see you’ve met Kinsey,” she said, and then slipped into the chair beside mine.

He pulled out a chair for Daisy. “How’re you doing, Daisy? You’re looking good.”

“Thanks. I’m fine. Place smells divine.”

“I got an eight-ounce filet with your name on it.”

Tannie lowered her gaze, but the comment she made was directed to me. “Don’t look now, but Chet Cramer just walked in with Caroleena, the Violet Sullivan clone.”

Of course, I looked straight up, catching Chet Cramer’s eye. His smile was friendly, but I noticed he promptly steered his wife toward another part of the bar. From the glimpse I had, she looked too old to be dying her hair such a harsh shade of red. Her pale complexion was more the result of makeup than the delicate Irish coloring she hoped to simulate. Tight dress, big boobs, getting thick in the waist.

“Does she really look like Violet?”

“Oh, hardly,” Daisy scoffed. “That woman’s a cow. My mother was a natural beauty. Poor Kathy Cramer. I’d be mortified if my father connected up with someone like that.”

The dinner crowd was picking up, so Jake excused himself to tend to business while the three of us settled in with our drinks and a serious contemplation of the menu. We all ordered the filet mignon, medium rare, with a salad up front and a side of baked potato. We were finishing the meal when the subject of Kathy Cramer surfaced again. Having been granted immunity from any accusation of gossiping, I naturally passed along the news about the collapse of the Cramer-Smith marriage.

“Well, good for him. She is such a bitch. I’m happy to hear he’s finally busting out,” Tannie said.

Daisy said, “I’m with you. About time he got a backbone.”

“I’m not sure you can call it ‘busting out’ when she’s giving him the boot,” I said.

Tannie made a pained face. “But he used to be so cute. And really, the name Winston. Could you just die?” she said. “I do think someone should tell him to drop the weight. Even twenty pounds would make a difference. He goes back on the market, I know half a dozen women who’d snap him up.”